the hard beat of her heart
by bobtheacorn
Summary: She's never hit him before. Never honest to god knocked the fucking shit out of him. / bakugou family. spoilers for 80


-x-

the hard beat of her heart

-x-

She's never hit him before.

Never honest to god knocked the fucking shit out of him.

(And maybe he's done a lot to deserve it. He's such a _fuck…_ But she never has. She's the first one to knock him down, the first to pick him up again, and yeah it pisses him the hell off sometimes the way she's constantly giving him shit, but he _gets it._ He gets why she's like that. Anyone that _doesn't_ get it might not see it for what it is - Katsuki knows this woman would step in front of any Villain for him, useless fucking quirk or not.

And she'd probably fucking win.)

When she brings her hand down, palm flat, the blow catches him right across the face. The force of it turns his head aside. It stings, from his ear all the way to his mouth, tears blooming in his eye. It's far from the hardest he's ever been hit - it's everything she puts into it that makes him bite down on his lip and not say a fucking word. His ear is ringing, face throbbing. His dad raises his voice, something Katsuki has probably heard twice in his life, _"Mitsuki!"_

After that, there's a stunned silence.

Dad doesn't know what the fuck to do.

The police that escorted him home don't know what the fuck do.

Katsuki stares at the floor, tears pooling in that one eye and sliding down his burning cheek, and doesn't know what the fuck to _do_. After all the shit he's put everyone through, some of it was bound to hit the fan. _Useless fucking piece of shit._ Letting his goddamn guard down in the middle of battle and letting his stupid, weak ass get fucking kidnapped by a bunch of fuckwad Villains. _The look on Deku's goddamn face._ Needing to be saved. Twice. _All Might..._

"You _asshole…!"_ his mom finally chokes the words out, followed by a sharp gasp. She grabs him roughly by the collar, yanks him forward so he stumbles, and Katsuki, _fuck him_ , he _flinches_. But she only pulls him in against her, arms going around his shoulders. Her hands curl into fists, gripping the back of his shirt, and she hugs him so tightly it fucking hurts. _"Do you know how fucking_ _ **scared**_ _I was…!?"_

She's _crying_ and something hot burns in his chest.

He's never seen her fall apart. Not once.

But he can feel her shaking, hear the hard beat of her heart, and she just squeezes him tighter. She crushes him against her, like she'd pull him back into her body if she could. She rocks him on his feet - she hasn't done that since he was five - and her voice breaks, _"Thought you were never coming home, you goddamn brat…! What the fuck would I have done….!?"_

Katsuki's breath goes out, but he feels sort of numb.

-x-x-x-

In the days that follow, every time he goes to sleep, Katsuki feels like he's _suffocating._ He knows that it's just a fucking dream. He goddamn knows that. He still can't shake the overwhelming feeling that there's sludge in his mouth. That rancid stench is caught in his throat, burning in his lungs, and he can't _breath._ He's clawing at something that he can't get a grip on, hands sliding through nothing.

 _Useless. Helpless._

 _Fuck._

He can't hear, he can't see, he can't even scream - and _goddamnit he wants to fucking scream_ \- but he can feel his own pulse, beating really hard, then really soft. The impression of being pulled away, darkness pressing into him - hands grabbing at his neck, and he's still fucking choking. He activates his quirk in his sleep, though sheer adrenaline or because he's trying to.

 _If I can just -_

The small explosions jolt him back into consciousness. It scares the hell out of him, the dream sensations and the real ones all crashing into one another. His room is too dark. His heart is thudding in his chest, skipping out of rhythm. Katsuki gulps down air, struggling to get a grip, but there's pressure building in his chest, something hot that burns and reeks like -

The sheets are soaked with sweat and smoking, twisted up around his arms and legs, and he almost tears them, frantic to break free.

He hits the floor so hard his head is spinning.

He can't breathe, hands trembling, stomach shuddering.

He barely gets his head in the toilet before he's throwing up, his whole body tense as he violently empties his stomach into the bowl. He's _too hot_ and he _can't breathe_ and it _fucking reeks._ _Goddamnit. Fuck._ Katsuki presses the back his hand down over his eyes, gasping and shaking. He's sick two more times before it finally fucking stops. He grips his other hand into shirt, pops of heat and pressure flaring against his stomach, torching through it.

The smell of fabric burning, the heat near his face, makes bile rise in the back of his throat again. He chokes it down, gagging.

"Fuck…" he mutters weakly, slamming his fist down to flush the toilet and sinking back against the wall, fingers fumbling through the newly scorched holes in his shirt.

His whole fucking body aches. Katsuki eases himself to the floor and curls up on his side, grateful that it's so damn cold. He feels like he's burning from the inside out. _Fucking pathetic._ He's _fucking pathetic_. Mom at least has the fucking decency to stand on the other side of the bathroom door without fucking saying anything until he's calmed himself down a bit. Then she knocks, like she hasn't been there this whole fucking time.

"You okay, kid?"

"Fine," his voice breaks against the word and he takes a deep breath, "...fuck off."

"You think I don't know when somethin's up with you? You want to talk?"

 _"I said I'm fine. Fuck off…!"_

"Katsuki - !"

 _"LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE, DAMNIT…!"_

She beats her fist against the door this time, frustrated. If she yells back because she doesn't know what else to _do_ , Katsuki doesn't hear any of it. The sharp sound, the vibration, makes his unsteady nerves and stomach jump. He scrambles forward to throw up again even though there's nothing left. Stomach acid burns his throat and his nose, chokes him again. _Fuck, he hates this. He fucking hates this_. Katsuki clamps his hands down against his face, his breath shuddering out.

 _Fuck._

When his head has stopped pounding so hard, he hears his parents arguing, ( _"What am I supposed to_ _ **do**_ _if he won't fucking_ _ **talk**_ _to me, Masaru?!" "You're just going to upset him more if you start yelling, too." "Fuck! I know that, I just…!" "Give him some space," Dad says that firmly, slowly, "He'll talk when he's ready to. If he wants to be alone, then leave him alone."_ ); Mom's hard footfalls fading down the hallway and Dad's long sigh. After waiting a few seconds, his dad tries the door.

He doesn't get angry when he finds that it's locked.

"Katsuki," he says instead, his voice soft, "You alright?"

Katsuki moans into his hands, drags them back through his hair, fingers digging at his scalp.

"'m fine. Fuck, I said 'm fine..."

"Alright."

Dad actually leaves him the fuck alone after that. His footsteps go down the hall, way softer than Mom's and way slower. Katsuki sinks back down against the cold floor and buries his head in his arms, trying to breath without goddamn whimpering, wishing his hands would stop fucking shaking, wishing this pervasive _fear_ swimming in his chest would go the fuck away instead of eating him alive.

-x-x-x-

Two weeks into his fucking prison sentence, and he hasn't slept for shit.

Occasionally, he's napped on the couch for a while with the TV going, but someone always comes in and fucks it up. And by _someone_ he means his _fucking mother_. Just when he starts dozing off she comes thundering past with the laundry, telling him to get his shit together; or starts making a racket in the kitchen, asking what the fuck he wants to eat; or starts cleaning and asking him to help like she can't do it by her fucking self; or pins the phone down against her shoulder to talk to whoever the ever-loving fuck will listen and runs him off from the goddamn couch.

Katsuki's never been more fucking aggravated in his life.

He can't go outside because the cops told him not to and he can't get any goddamn peace in here, so what's the fucking point of keeping him cooped up all fucking summer long?

Today Mom's going for some kind of fucked up combo attack, banging around in the kitchen like it's her damn job to make as much noise as fucking possible and yacking on the phone at the same time. Katsuki crushes his head between two couch pillows for ten seconds ( _he fucking counts to ten goddamnit, who the hell says that shit even works_ ) before he finally loses it and launches one, smoking, across the room. The pillow smacks against the wall, knocks over a vase on the way down. Katsuki doesn't wait for this to grab her attention and rolls to his feet, storming off to his room.

He isn't quick enough.

She meets him in the hall before he gets to the stairs, the mouth of the phone pressed into her shoulder and a slight frown on her face. She's not pissed, just asks, "Katsuki, what the fuck?"

 _He's_ pissed, and he doesn't give an absolute single fuck anymore. His head is throbbing. He's so fucking exhausted he feels nauseous and if she asks what he wants to eat _one more fucking time_ even though he's said he'd rather starve than eat her damn cooking he's going to go fucking ballistic. Katsuki tries to gain as much ground as possible, takes the stairs two at a time before he finally barks, "You can't shut the fuck up for five fucking minutes! It's driving me up the fucking wall, you're so goddamn annoying!"

Her face flushes bright red, _"You want me to beat your ass!"_

 _"Fucking do it!"_

Katsuki slams his bedroom door, cutting off whatever enraged sound she throws at him. She climbs the stairs and bangs on the door, but she doesn't force it open - she never does, that's like her one fucking rule - "You better come out of there with another fucking attitude other than _belligerent asshole_ the next time you open that door, Katsuki, or don't bother coming out at all! I fucking mean it!" Katsuki doesn't dignify that shit with a response.

He wraps his pillow around his head, screaming into the mattress.

-x-

When he decides that he's just too fucking pissed off to sleep, now, Katsuki sneaks back to the living room to abscond with the laptop - defiantly exchanges heated eye contact with his mom the entire time. On the inside, he's boiling over. _Do it! Say something! I want to fucking fight!_ But she doesn't say fucking anything to him. Just keeps aggressively folding the fucking laundry, glaring at him. Somehow, that pisses him off even more. Katsuki stays holed up in his room the rest of the day.

Dad comes home after six o'clock to a house that's eerily fucking quiet, and since that's a pretty big indicator that something is fucking wrong, Katsuki's not all that surprised when Dad only knocks briefly on his bedroom door before pushing it open.

Dad doesn't grant him the same free reign of his room that Mom does.

Katsuki doesn't really care.

She's crazy. Dad's not. He's just fucking backwards and quiet.

Katsuki looks up from where he's sitting in the middle of the bed, folded over the computer, and levels his dad with a bored stare. The laptop's breathing heavily, warming the sheets and the inside of his knee, but Katsuki doesn't bother setting it up on a book or something. Part of him hopes it fucking smothers. Something else besides himself certainly fucking deserved to, that's for damn sure. He pulls an earbud out, asks flatly, "What?"

Dad's got that sheepish look on his face as he comes into the room, raising his shoulders.

"You in a better mood than she is?"

He gestures behind him and Katsuki lets his eyes wander toward the door. Without the music blaring in both ears, he can hear Mom downstairs in the kitchen, swearing and ranting while she gets dinner started. Katsuki scoffs and shrugs, turning back to the computer. He mutters into his palm, "I fuckin' guess," and Dad comes over to sit on the bed behind him.

He groans tiredly as he sinks down onto the mattress, and then flops onto his back to stretch out.

Katsuki continues scrolling through Amazon pages.

"How was work?" he asks, "That fucker Yamato still giving you shit?"

"Ah. Actually, they fired Yamato. Caught him stealing office supplies," Dad says absently. Katsuki snorts _good_ because the fucker deserved it, and opens a new tab when he finds the item he's looking for. Behind him, he feels Dad shift around a little, hears him clear his throat. Here it comes, "You two get into it today?"

Katsuki doesn't answer right away, pecking at the keyboard.

"I guess I hurt her fucking feelings or some shit…"

"What'd you do that for, son?"

"Fuck if I know."

"Fair enough. Think you ought to go apologize?"

"..."

Dad claps him across the back, gently, and doesn't press for an answer. Katsuki expects him to say it for the 400th time ( _"You two are just alike, you know. That's why you can't get along."_ ), but he decides to switch the conversation, instead, "You suddenly into espionage?"

"No. Why the fuck would I be?"

Dad drops an arm across his thigh, pointing at the computer screen, "What else are you going to be doing with a night vision camera, son?"

"I'm not buying one, I was just seeing how fucking much." Katsuki drops his head into both hands, scrubbing them back through his hair. He feels like he should clarify, because, fine, he does have an outstanding reputation with shit that doesn't belong to him, "And I didn't break one of these. The dumbass fucking lost it."

 _Lost it because of_ _ **me**_ _. Got it in the first goddamn place because of_ _ **me**_ _._

And then had the gall to wonder where the fuck it was right in front of him, and then dismiss dropping it like it's no big deal. Like holding onto his hand was more fucking important than a piece of equipment he spent thousands of yen on. Like you can just carelessly throw shit away like that.

 _Fucking dumbass Kirishima._

Dad hums in thought, "Kind of expensive."

"Yeah, no fucking shit." Katsuki stares at the price for a while, mentally going through his savings. It's close, but it's not enough. He rests his forehead in his hand, fingers dragging across his hairline, and eventually asks, "...You got anything I can do around here to earn some extra cash this summer since I'm under fucking house arrest or whatever?"

Dad thinks about it for a while, absently rubbing Katsuki's back.

"I could probably come up with a list."

"Great."

"Katsuki… about this whole 'house arrest' thing," he pauses, and that's never good. Katsuki tries to brace himself, but he knows it's just going to piss him off, anyway. "You know you're not in any trouble, right? You didn't do anything wrong. This isn't to punish you, it's just to keep you - "

"Safe, yeah, I fucking know, thanks," Katsuki snaps. He feels his whole body heat up because he doesn't like fucking talking about it, clenches his fist against his thigh. "I love being treated like a fucking infant, it's fucking great. I'm not scared some Villain's going to jump out from around the corner and carry me off, _why the fuck is everyone else?_ You bastards know I can take care of my fucking self, right?"

Behind him, Dad lets out a deep sigh.

"No one's saying that you can't, Katsuki."

 _Well, it feels like everyone is fucking saying it and that pisses me the fuck off!_

Katsuki glowers at the computer screen, mutters, "Leave me the fuck alone..."

Dad stays right where the fuck he is, though. He doesn't even drop his fucking hand from Katsuki's back, fingers still dragging an easy pattern between his shoulder blades, down his spine, and back up. Katsuki huffs, a protest welling in his throat. But Dad doesn't fucking say anything else, either, instead lapsing into a silence that's not as tense as Katsuki fucking wants it to be. He breathes out again, slower. That's sort of fine, he fucking guesses. Dad at least knows when the fuck to be quiet, so he's not as aggravating to be around as Mom is.

She would talk to a brick fucking wall if it would listen.

Katsuki's bedroom door is standing open and the smell of stir fry begins to waft through the house. Mom is still going off in the kitchen, banging pans against the stove, hurling dishes into the sink, and being generally disruptive of not only her own environment but everyone else's.

Finally, Dad speaks again.

"If you're going to apologize to your mom," he says, "you'd better do it before she overcooks the rice or we're all going to have a bad night." Katsuki doesn't move, trying to bury himself deeper into the computer and pretend he didn't fucking hear anything. He shifts tabs aimlessly without really looking at anything, smacking the mousepad too hard with his fingertips; changes the song that's playing because it's pissing him off. Dad gently thumps his back and prompts, "Katsuki."

Katsuki growls, "Fine! Fucking fine!"

He tears the other earbud out, slinging his headphones against the laptop. He flips it closed on them, throws his legs over it to get out of bed, and storms to the door. Not like he's been sitting here stewing about it all fucking day long, feeling like the biggest trashcan on the fucking planet because he hurt her fucking feelings over something so goddamn stupid.

It's not her fault she's fucking annoying. It's not his fault he's so fucking tired and pissed off all the goddamn time and everything is getting on his fucking nerves.

 _Piece of shit asshole_ , Katsuki thinks, losing steam by the second as he goes down the stairs, then down the hall, _Can't even fucking deal with this!_

He knows if he goes in there looking all pissed off, it'll just make shit worse. So he sort of ends up wandering into the kitchen without a real game plan, clenching and unclenching his fists because his fucking palms are sweating. Fuck, he hates that. Should have fucking thought of what he was going to say instead of running off half-cocked, that's his whole goddamn problem, isn't it?

Fucking Dad getting him pissed off about it all over again...

Mom looks at him sharply when she notices him standing there. A chopping knife is in her fist, poised over a row of celery. Katsuki feels his face reddening and crams his hands into his pockets. Before she can say something that makes him change his fucking mind, he blurts out, as coolly as possible, "You want me to help with anything in here, or what?"

That's as good as it's going to get.

Mom's quiet for a second, probably the first time all day, just looking at him. Her eyes are wet and redder than usual, her shoulders tense, fist tight around the knife handle. Katsuki pretends not to notice. Doesn't think _my fault_ as he stares steadily back. Mom slowly relaxes, setting the knife down on the chopping block while she considers the offer and probably gets what he means by it. A bunch of celery bits clump together under her hand as she moves them around the block.

"You can make the rice, I guess," she says eventually, pointing with the knife. She drops her eyes, starts chopping the vegetables again. "As long as you don't fuck it up."

Katsuki scoffs - any idiot can cook rice, it takes hot water and three fucking minutes for god's sake - and goes to pull what he needs out of the cabinet. They're used to sharing the kitchen, so they fall into a rhythm pretty quickly. Dad wanders in to sit at the kitchen table and watches them cook without saying anything, but he's got such a dopey grin on his face that Mom eventually snaps at him, "What the fuck's so damn funny, Masaru?"

"Haha. Nothing."

"Dumbass…"

"Love you, too, hun."

"You two are fucking gross, I'm standing right the fuck here."

"Watch your fucking mouth, Katsuki."

-x-x-x-

When his parents finally relent and let him out of the fucking house, Katsuki _runs_.

This allowance comes after a lot of bitching on his part.

And he doesn't even care to call it _bitching_ because that's what it's fucking been. He's been bitching, and whining, and moaning; he's been chewing both their asses off over this 'stay at home where it's safe' bullshit for three goddamn days straight. Contrary to what they think, and what the police think, and what anybody fucking else thinks, he's got shit to fucking do. He's tired of not sleeping well, tired of the damn nightmares, tired of being fucking tired every second of the fucking day, and tired of not having any goddamn productive thing to do with his very valuable fucking time.

Having this mawing void hanging in front of him instead of a _schedule_ is fucking him up worse than being strapped to a chair for who-knows how many fucking hours or days. And the only thing that stops him from screaming that at them in his rage is that he hasn't fucking talked about it, and he isn't fucking going to. _He's fine._

He does say,

 _"You wouldn't keep a fucking dog cooped up in the house like this 24 fucking 7!"_

Because he's sick of people trying to tell him what he can't do, sick of people trying to hold his fucking hand like he's going through some shit he can't deal with on his own.

Mom is the one that caves, fucking _finally_. She always caves first. Katsuki is actually surprised her patience held out for as long as it did. He's been giving her absolute, unrelenting hell over it because Dad can out-sweat just about anyone, but she'll blow a fuse if he pushes hard enough. The only thing that isn't immensely satisfying about his victory is that her and Dad have obviously talked in length about it, and that's maybe part of the reason that she gives in.

 _"I guess you can go for a run in the mornings, as long as you're not out too long. I mean like - a fucking hour_ _ **max**_ _, Katsuki, and then your ass needs to be back home pronto."_

Fuck her, she would pick that, knowing how he fucking hates getting up early. But lately, he's been up at 4 fucking o'clock, any goddamn way. It's getting better, easier to manage, but half the time he still can't fucking sleep. So Katsuki is awake at the ass crack of dawn the next morning, cramming a protein bar in his mouth, snagging a bottle of water out of the fridge, pulling his shoes on, and bolting out the door before Dad even has coffee in his hands. He hears a groggy, but alert, "Katsuki, keep your phone with you!" as the door slams shut and he doesn't fucking look back.

Of course he has his fucking phone, how else is he going to time his run?

For fuck's sake.

He can get four to six kilometers before he has to turn around.

Not his best, but it'll be a good start. It's already hot as hell outside. 6 am, and August is already saying _fuck you_ to anyone stupid enough to be awake and under the goddamn sun. Katsuki lives for it. He's pouring sweat before he even reaches the end of the block. For the first time in fucking weeks, his muscles are burning, his breath is hard and even, and he fucking grins.

-x-x-x-

One night when that sick weight of anticipation is just sitting on top of him, threatening to make it hard to breath, Katsuki just gives the fuck up. They're not as bad as before, the fucking nightmares, but he's just too tired for this shit. He doesn't want to deal with it tonight.

It's not even that late, maybe 11 o'clock. Both of his parents are still awake, laid up on the couch together, Dad sitting at one end and Mom taking up the rest, her legs thrown across his lap. Katsuki glares at them as he wanders into the living room because they were fucking talking about him before they heard him on the stairs. He's not deaf, he heard their fucking voices, and he's not fucking stupid. They shut up too quick for it to be normal. Mom doesn't look at him, eyes glued to the TV, but Dad does, watching Katsuki sink down onto the arm of the opposite couch.

"Katsuki. You okay?"

"Fine," Katsuki mutters.

He crosses his arms and focuses on the TV to distract himself, trying to figure out what the hell they're watching. A nature documentary by the looks of it, probably something Dad picked to wind down. There's nothing but deep blue mountains and reaching cliff sides, shaded trees in full bloom going across the screen. Katsuki scowls. That's fucking great. It just reminds him that this is the first summer since he was probably nine that he's not going to get to go mountain climbing by himself and be free of this fucking place for a few days.

Even if he weren't supposed to stay inside until the start of term, there's no way his parents would let him within forty miles of a fucking mountain after the clusterfuck that camp was - _dark woods and blood on the ground, some sick fuck's crooning out of sight and it's so damn cold and he can't fucking breathe and someone is screaming who the fuck is screaming -_

"Hey."

Katsuki starts.

Mom's sharp voice pulls him out of it.

He hadn't even realized he'd been gone and twists around to look at her, horrified. His breath is short and his hands are shaking, pinned down beneath his arms and his shuddering ribs. _Fuck._ She's staring right at him and he can't read the look on her face.

"...what?" he asks, forcing his voice not to snag in his throat.

He feels fucking cold and sick and he doesn't want to be looked at.

Mom beckons impatiently, "Come over here."

Katsuki hesitates, trying to scowl. But he's tired, and restless, now, and that gross prickling feeling goes through his chest and stomach, creeping down his spine like cold hands. His heart's thumping hard, his palms too warm, body too wobbly, heat in his eyes. All this adrenaline gushing through his bloodstream, telling him to _move,_ and he's got nowhere to fucking go. _No one to fight. Everything's fine, fuck._ So he gets up slowly, arms still clamped in tight, and walks around the coffee table.

That letter from U.A. about the dorm situation or whatever is sitting on top of the envelope, the wax seal broken. Probably what they were fucking talking about. Katsuki doesn't know what to think about it, honestly. It sounds fucking stupid, but… whatever.

"What?" he asks more warily once he's standing over her.

Mom lifts her arms and beckons for him again, "Lay down here with us. _"_ She pats her thighs. Katsuki finally gets what she wants, and scoffs.

"I'm too big for this shit."

"You're not too big for me to kick your ass, you brat, now get the fuck down here!"

She's rocking forward, planting her foot into Dad's ribs and ignoring his grunt of surprise, and grabbing Katsuki by the elbows before he can think to step back. He digs his feet into the floor, struggles a little on principle - but - fuck - he lets her. Mom pulls him down to sit across her lap and then lays back with him hugged against her chest, both arms locked around his shoulders, face pressed into his hair. She seems pretty damn pleased with herself, even though she's hard-pressed to pull in a deep breath. Probably because he's about 100 lbs heavier since the last time he laid on top of her like this.

It used to be the only way he'd take a nap when he was little. Mom would have to put down whatever she was doing in the middle of the day to lay on the couch with him like this until he fell asleep, otherwise he'd be pissed off all afternoon. But he outgrew that shit a long time ago.

He doesn't need to be coddled...

"This is fucking stupid," Katsuki mutters, face half buried in her chest as he glares at the TV, "Your tits are huge, I can't fucking see anything."

Mom laughs at that, a deep clear sound that Katsuki feels physically chasing warmth into his chest. _Goddamnit._ Did he fucking miss this…?

"You're the only one complaining about that, kiddo~"

He hears the teasing grin in her voice, feels her push Dad's shoulder with her foot.

Nope. No he fucking didn't.

Katsuki snarls, "Aw, sick!" ( _"Mitsuki…!")_ and kicks his feet to leverage himself up. Mom only laughs harder, squeezing him with both arms and pulling her legs up against him to cradle him in. She's not as strong as he is. He could easily break free if he wanted to. All he does, though, is puff in annoyance and stop struggling, even though his face is burning. She knows he hates when she says shit like that in front of him. Fucking gross. Mom relaxes her grip when she realizes he's not really hellbent on going anywhere. She throws her legs back out across Dad's and shifts around until she's comfortable under the weight of her agitated child.

She laughs a little softer this time, rubbing his arm, "Sorry, baby."

Katsuki can tell she's got this big, dumb grin on her fucking face. He doesn't even tell her not to fucking call him that.

 _Fucking embarrassing._

Dad is sighing, "Please behave."

Mom laughs earnestly, "He fucking started it."

Katsuki tucks his head under her chin and mutters, "Please shut the fuck up."

Mom smacks him, a light swat against the back of his head that doesn't really have much force behind it. She rubs her hand up and down his arm, her palms warm against his skin, her hands soft. She doesn't say anything else and because she's the talker, all three of them stay quiet after that. Katsuki relaxes without really meaning to. He wanted to stubbornly stay tense, arms crossed tight, elbow digging into her ribs, hoping she would get annoyed and tell him to get the fuck off, but she doesn't.

Without even doing anything, she steadies his wobbly, weak ass nerves, makes him feel more at ease than he's been all fucking week. It kind of pisses him off a little. Her slow, even breathing, the steady thump of her heart in his ear. The way she's warm and soft she smells like _mom._ Katsuki breathes out against her collarbone, eyes heavy and out of focus, drifting closed.

The last thing he remembers is her hand moving to the back of his head, her fingers carding through his hair, pushing it up off his neck where it's sweat-stuck. He thinks he feels Dad squeezing his leg, their low voices talking over him like it doesn't matter if he hears or not.

" _U.A.'s been good for him. And he's a fucking trooper. You think he'll be alright?"_

" _He'll be fine."_

It's the first time in a while that he sleeps without dreaming.

-x-

-BobTAC


End file.
